


The Mechanic

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Biker AU, M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 08:03:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10486086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Hux's bike needs a service.





	

Hux is new to town, but you hear from the locals which are the places to go. Where will rip you off, and where won’t. Where you’ll get what you need, and where you’ll be fed lies. 

Always best to check the plates when you drive in. Make sure there’s locals here. Make sure the older models look loved. His bike isn’t quite old enough to vote, but it’s getting there. You have to make sure there’s someone that can keep the girl running without it being cost-prohibitive. When it’s more money to maintain than a new (or newer) model… that’s when it’s time to say goodbye.

Hux isn’t ready to say goodbye, not yet. This girl got him out and away from a very bad place. Gave him freedom, gave him wings. She’s seen him through lean times, and carried him to wonderful places, and if he ever has to put her to pasture… yeah. He isn’t sure how he’ll live with himself.

The mechanic who greets him is tall. _Hux_ is tall. He isn’t sure if the other guy is taller, or just seems like it because of the hair. It’s caught in a ponytail, but it’s still that kind of… _floof_ on top. His face is clean, but his hands are not. Filthy coveralls, and scuffed boots, the steel toecaps visible under the leather. 

Hux appreciates that. He looks like a man who actually works, rather than the sterilised, surgical nonsense some of the chains have. His coveralls have lots of pockets that bulge, obviously holding tools. His nails are short and Hux can’t help but… well. Admire how big they are. And those forearms. Biceps. Shoulders. Torso…

 _Not now_. He’s supposed to be getting his bike serviced, not… getting _him_ serviced. Plus, he isn’t sure if the guy swings his way or not. 

Still. Doesn’t hurt to wonder. He hands the keys to his baby over, and nods up at the sign. “You the ‘and son’?”

“Huh?”  


“The sign. Says ‘and son’.”  


“Everyone’s a son. If they’re male, anyway,” he shrugs, taking a brief glance at the keys.   


So, not so talkative. Fine. Hux isn’t really one for huge amounts of small talk, but he knows in some situations that building a rapport can help, so he forces himself to adapt.

The man starts the slow walk around his girl, and Hux feels a curious thrill of panic. What if he doesn’t understand her? Or appreciate her? Sure, she’s not got the cylinders and satnav and ipod dock, but she’s got heart. The red’s still vibrant, and her handlebars gleam. 

“You’ve taken good care of her,” the mechanic says, and then cocks his head. “May I?”  


May. Not can. Either he’s had that lesson drummed into his head (like Hux, many times over), or he’s affecting the speech to mock him. Hux can’t see any derision on those features, so he assumes the former. 

“Be my guest.”  


A long leg lifts over her seat, and the mechanic slips the key in the ignition. It’s usually a sacrilege to see anyone else mount her, but weirdly, he kind of… gets off on it this time. It’s like… it’s like voyeurism. Seeing someone else with his other half. 

Not that he’s sexually attracted to his bike, but seeing her purr between those thighs? 

The mechanic closes his eyes, listening to the hum. The kickstand and brake are dispatched with, and he draws a tight circle around Hux, coming back to where he started.

“She’s leaning a bit to the left. Needs that tuning. Probably just an issue with the axle. Reckon she needs an oil flush. Brake pads are okay, but don’t leave it a year. Tyres feel fine, though you wanna watch out for the weather, here. Changes more often than the population does.”  


Yes, that was all what he’d expected, and Hux feels a weight lifted off him. “You think you can have her done by tomorrow?”

“I’m sure I can,” the mechanic replies. “You left your phone number at the desk?”  


“Yeah.”  


For a moment, their eyes meet. Hux can _tell_. Just like that, in the way men have always signalled that secret between them. _You are like me._

“I’ll know how to get in touch with you,” he says.

Oh yes. He will. Hux tugs his belt up slightly, and feels the snug jeans against his ass. “Make sure you do.” He’s certain he will.


End file.
